


Too Much Not Enough

by poisontaster



Category: Aeon Flux (2005)
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, clone incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-05
Updated: 2005-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2192970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster





	Too Much Not Enough

In darkness, he lies; both of him.

He is Oren and Oren is behind him as well, tangled together at the knees, arm wrapped around his naked chest and stirring his nipples into wakefulness.

_… but Trevor doesn’t sleep with Trevor._

_Trevor doesn’t love himself the way that I do. Hates himself, really. Can’t wait to bring this all to an end. Bring all of **us** to an end._

_Doesn’t he love us?_

_Not as much as he loves his books and notes and little glass vials._

_But we’re his brother. He can’t want us to die._

_He does. He wants us all to die._

_Because of Catherine? Because she’s dead?_

_Yes._

_He always loved her best. He always loved her more._

_Yes._

_I don’t want to die._

_Neither do I, pet; neither do I._

_Do we have to?_

_No. Not if we do things right._

_Tell me._

_Later._

There are many nights like this. Together, in the dark.

Once, he thought this was another part of his education. Now he thinks it’s because Oren needs this too. Like the memories, perhaps the hole he feels at his center is something that spawns across the generations, one to the next.

If he thought he could ask Trevor, he bets Trevor—either of them—could identify the genetic quirk that makes it so.

They might even try to fix it. Probably would. Trevor is all about fixing, whether something is really broken or not.

And then he would not have even this; this masturbatory closeness. It’s not the same, when he’s with Trevor, when Trevor _lets_ him be with him—because let’s face it, it’s always on Trevor’s terms and Trevor’s time—because Trevor is his brother, and for as much as he loves Trevor, sometimes a man just needs to be alone. With someone who understands him. And who understands him better than himself?

Oren holds up his hand, and Oren mirrors the gesture. Oren’s hand is bigger than his still, but otherwise so much the same. Someday, it will be his hand.

All of Bregna belongs to Trevor.

But this— _this_ —is his.

_But you love me, don’t you?_

_Of course I do. How could I not? You’re me. Should we not love our bodies, ourselves? Who knows me half as well as you? Trevor? No. We are the same, Oren._

_Yes._

Their fingers twine. The same, different, just as he and Trevor are the same but different. _Less than 1% difference in DNA, you to me, Oren!_ Losing Catherine was bad enough. A world without Trevor or Trevor, without Oren is too terrifying to contemplate, a yawing darkness as if the hole inside him explodes and expands to cover the world. It turns his stomach sick and his fingers sweaty and cold. It makes him scared, and it makes him angry.

Dead.

How can Trevor not feel this? How can Trevor not care?

How can Trevor consign himself to the same nothingness that took Catherine? How can he send Oren? They’re brothers—does it mean nothing?

_Don’t leave me._

_No. Never._

But if Trevor has his way, eventually Oren too will be no more. Gone forever.

Like Catherine.

_He has to be stopped, Oren._

Yes.

If…if we do this, will you stay with me?

Always.


End file.
